


Haunted

by disheveleddarkness



Category: Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: Blood Play, Eating Disorder, Incest, Is it dubcon if it’s either hallucinations or a spiritual experience?, M/M, Necrophilia, Sex, Sibling Incest, Smut, anorexic Ken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:21:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29235987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disheveleddarkness/pseuds/disheveleddarkness
Summary: Wormmon, peeking around a door, quietly asked, “Master? Who are you talking to?” Ken was getting worse every day, it seemed. It continued to break little Wormmon’s heart.The Kaiser growled, standing to turn and snap, “GET OUT OF HERE! You’re useless!”And then he saw him. Osamu, in his peripheral vision. Just for a moment, for when Ken turned his head, the image vanished; simultaneously, the door slid shut.Light was next. Darkness swallowed the room, and when his breath caught in his chest, he heard from behind himself, “Still afraid of the dark, Ken?”
Relationships: Ichijouji Ken/Ichijouji Osamu | Sam Ichijouji, Ichijouji Ken/Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya
Comments: 3
Kudos: 2





	Haunted

“That was pathetic. How can you lose control over your own creation?”

Ken’s heart quickened. That voice... it wasn’t possible. He was hearing things, and he wouldn’t be so stupid as to turn to it. To him.

“This isn’t over!” Ken exclaimed. “CHIMERAMON BELONGS TO ME. Everything here belongs to me! I haven’t lost a thing! These stupid kids—“

Wormmon, peeking around a door, quietly asked, “Master? Who are you talking to?” Ken was getting worse every day, it seemed. It continued to break little Wormmon’s heart.

The Kaiser growled, standing to turn and snap, “GET OUT OF HERE! You’re useless!”

And then he saw him. Osamu, in his peripheral vision. Just for a moment, for when Ken turned his head, the image vanished; simultaneously, the door slid shut.

Light was next. Darkness swallowed the room, and when his breath caught in his chest, he heard from behind himself, “Still afraid of the dark, Ken?”

Osamu’s breath was cold on his neck. Ken spun around and stepped back from him, panic flooding his head as his chest tightened with the onslaught of emotions. He felt... everything for Sam: hatred, love, guilt—

“I’m flattered,” Osamu murmured, one hand falling to Ken’s waist as the other touched his chest. The space Ken had made between them was no barrier to him at all. 

A computer monitor flickered, briefly illuminating Sam’s grey skin and the wound in his hair he’d once bled out of so quickly. Ken remembered that moment vividly. The hopeless, resigned look Sam had settled onto him. Those last minutes when Sam knew he would be dead before any help could be there.

“Flattered and fascinated,” Sam said, “that this is how you perceived me.” He looked his little brother over and added, “Rather pathetic though, to be this desperate to be me. Was it not enough to kill me? No. Of course not. They still don’t notice a damn thing about you, even with me gone...”

“I didn’t kill you!” Ken exclaimed. Another step back, but it was disregarded; Sam moved with him.

“I wouldn’t have been there if not for you.” he murmured over Ken’s lips. Sam reveled in the feeling of his heart pounding under his hand, intrigued by what he’d been so long without. Ken forced his hand off him, and Sam reappeared behind him. 

Pressing Ken against him, Sam remarked, “I would have loved to be you. I never had one minute to myself. Why are you shaking, Ken? You aren’t afraid of me, are you?” 

When his lips brushed over his neck, Ken broke free from him and growled. “Get off me!” What the hell was this?

“Let me take your mind off your ridiculous failures,” Sam offered, taking hold of Ken’s wrist, nails biting into pale skin, “and your anger... Your hatred cannot be all you feel for me; not when you try so hard to be me...”

Sam grabbed the other wrist, prying the gloves off Ken’s hands. “Are you too weak to admit it? To tell me what you really want?”

“You don’t know anything about me!” Ken exclaimed.

“I know everything about you! I know the guilt that haunts every moment of your miserable life! The loneliness that should have departed with me but only grew because you will never be comparable! The world sees you, adores you, worships you, but mother resents you.” 

Sam touched his jaw and lifted his chin. “And for that you hate me, but not as much as you hate yourself for ruining the lives of everyone around you. You wish you could suffer. But you do suffer... You haven’t any friends, any real interests... Only trivial distractions. So it isn’t so much as you want to suffer but rather you wish to atone...”

Ken met his gaze again after having looked off to the shadows at the side for a moment.

Sam smirked, closing the small amount of space between them with a kiss to his lips before adding lowly. “To give me the pleasure I’ve been denied.”

Ken embraced him, forehead pressing to his shoulder and eyes squeezing shut. Why would he conjure something so perverse? Tears slipped down his face, and he tightened his hold on Osamu. 

When Ken raised his head, Sam lifted the Kaiser glasses out of the way to more firmly kiss him. As Ken leaned into it and closed his eyes again, Sam’s words cycled through his mind. The guilt and loneliness had consumed him, turned to anger and hatred... Yet beneath it all he loved Sam. He loved what they once had had, and he grieved what all they each would never have again.

He did like his distractions. His games, his sports, his academics. If he could stay busy with school and soccer and the digital world, each minute spent on either was one not entirely saturated in the sadness. 

And now this. A vulgar distraction found in parting his lips to him. In feeling Sam lick over his lip and into his mouth. 

Sam laid a hand over his, and the other supported his back while pressing him closer, slipping under his shirt. Ken was so warm in comparison. Here they stood a juxtaposition of the living and the dead.

Ken slid a hand past Sam’s shoulder and into his hair until it settled at the worst of the wounds. He kept it there, losing himself in a memory wet with blood and obscured with obscene and apologetic lust. 

Sam turned his face. He reached for and lowered Ken’s hand to taste the blood. Ken smeared it over his mouth, then Sam pressed kisses to his knuckles until Ken crashed their lips together once more. Sam grinned against him, delighted by this boy’s submission to indulgence.

The intimacy in the taste of his blood had Ken more eagerly returning those kisses, pressing his tongue across his and feeling Sam guide his hand between his legs.

Ken’s participation paused. Sam continued kissing him until he prompted, “Is something wrong?”

“No.” Ken whispered. “It’s just a game.”

It’s just a game. It didn’t matter what he did in a videogame meant to conform to manifest anything he wanted that he could never have otherwise.

“I have to get home.” He pulled away from Osamu. 

“Do you want to see me again?” Sam asked.

Gaze shifting to the side, Ken nodded.

—

The blood on his hands should not have carried over outside the digital world. After he washed them, some blood remained, dried under his nails. 

He wouldn’t sleep that night. With so much on his mind, how could he? Chewing at his nails to scrape off the blood and taste Osamu again, he found himself regretting coming home. There was nothing for him here. Nothing significant enough to keep him. It was all a waste of time that could instead go into defeating those kids and reclaiming the control over his world.

The following day at school affirmed he really didn’t want to be here. He hated being surrounded by idiots. Even his teachers were thoughtless morons he couldn’t stand.

Meanwhile, across town Daisuke (despite his difficulty in working a computer) succeeded in locating Ken’s school’s soccer schedule online. He had soccer practice today! It was the perfect chance to go kick his ass. Once he arrived, he lurked near the locker room, trying to act like he was supposed to be there. Being a spy was awesome! Maybe he had found a new career idea! Professional SPY slash soccer SUPERSTAR slash RAMEN EXPERT!

Where was Ken? Everyone else had left. Maybe he’d found the wrong schedule. Time to go in and snoop to find out!

Practice had been productive enough. No one had noticed Ken’s exhaustion. He’d focused hard on not conveying it, but now he found himself struggling in the locker room. He expected to recover after more of this bottle of a sports drink he had an endorsement deal for, but when he stood his vision faded, and he took it as a cue to sit back down— before he passed out.

He awoke when he heard the door open and a familiar voice babbling as that obnoxious, red haired boy came into view.

“— so leave my friends alone, asshole! What’s your problem anyway?! Not so tough without your hairspray and your dark rings! How about you come fight me now, huh bitch?! You ain’t bad! You ain’t nothin!”

Sneering, Ken lowered his drink then unsteadily returned to his feet. 

Daisuke shut up, only because as he came closer he noticed how bad Ken looked. 

Ken found he still couldn’t stand yet without white spreading across his vision. He sat down with his head in his hands. 

“Are you... okay... Ichijouji?”

“Somewhat hungry. Go away.” Ken answered.

“I got some chips!” Daisuke exclaimed, opening a bag and trying to hand it to him. 

Ken glanced to it. “I’m not eating that!” 

Daisuke ate a handful of them and asked, “Why?” 

“I don’t even like eating!”

“Why are you so weird?!” 

Ken rolled his eyes and went about changing out of his soccer shoes. “Listen. You need to find your own server.”

“A what?”

“Your own server, to get out of my game and do whatever stupid thing you want with yours.” Ken set the shoes in his locker and grabbed his backpack. 

“It isn’t a game!”

Ken slammed the door and turned to him. “Never speak to me again.” 

... He took the chips, ate one, and threw the bag at Daisuke. “I hate you.”

“I hate you more!” Daisuke shouted, and Ken pushed past him to wash chip dust off his hand. 

Ken smirked, remarking casually, “I’m going to kill all you fools’ digimon.”

“Come say that to my face!”

Ken approached him and asked over his lips, “What would be worse, your digimon enslaved or your digimon dead? What do you think? It’s a hard question... you can get back with me on your answer.”

His answer was about to be a punch to Ken’s face, until the pale boy lowered to the floor in preparation of passing out.

“What’s going on?!” Ken’s soccer coach demanded in the doorway.

“Ichijouji’s sick, I don’t know! I don’t go here!” Daisuke rushed to escape this situation, as any good spy knew when to leave.

—

A granola bar got Ken home, and then bringing a bowl of rice up to his room, he knew he’d be fine again. 

“Welcome back,” Osamu soon greeted him. “You’re late. You’ve lost two more control spires already. Do you have a new plan yet?”

His chopsticks hit the floor. Ken closed the door and set the bowl on a surface. This wasn’t right, how could Sam be in his room? Sitting on his bed. “Sam...” fell from Ken’s lips. 

The room was colder. 

Sam gestured to the computer. “Well? What do you want to do?” He laughed when Ken moved onto his lap. “Good choice...” he murmured before leaning in to meet the kiss. He slid a hand through Ken’s hair and bit his lip as he lay back. 

Ken followed, folding over him and further opening his mouth to better caress his brother’s tongue.

“Show me the Kaiser’s aggression,” Sam encouraged, fueling deeper, better kisses and the redistribution of weight to press closer. 

Closer, until Ken parted to bring a curious hand between them, grasping at Sam’s arousal. Osamu smirked, touching the back of Ken’s hand then moving under it to undress.

Ken’s touch was divine once the apprehension passed. Hungry kisses met the fervor of strong strokes around his cock.

“I have something better in mind.” Sam remarked, shifting a hand on Ken’s thigh to his ass instead. 

A long exhale... and Ken admitted, “Yeah.” 

Sam remained under him as he shed his shorts. “Go ahead. Take what you want.” he told Ken. Sam swept Ken’s hair back from his face to have a clear look into his eyes when he pressed down onto his cock. He captured his lips in another open kiss, and as Ken sucked at his mouth, Sam guided his hips closer.

“You feel perfect, Ken,” Sam praised breathlessly.

His movements ceased. It had been... so long since Sam had complimented him. Eyes wide, Ken gasped out, “What?”

“Don’t make me redact the statement. Don’t stop now.”

But footsteps out in the hall urged Ken to flip over and pull over a blanket. It was a false alarm; a hall door opened, and the steps soon disappeared.

And Ken was alone.

Of course he was. It was only a game.

And now the silence was maddening. Glancing about the room and speaking Sam’s name left him feeling utterly pathetic and insane.

He didn’t like the game crossing over like this. He was ready to forsake this world in favor of his empire. Having an undefined amount of time there would give him the advantage over those kids that he needed.

For now he would catch up on some sleep.


End file.
